


Common Places

by rainysea



Category: Avengers (Comics), Marvel, Marvel (Comics), The Avengers (Marvel) - All Media Types
Genre: Accidents, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Coffee, M/M, Meet-Cute, Meet-Ugly, lucky - Freeform, movie theater
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-25
Updated: 2021-01-25
Packaged: 2021-03-17 13:42:28
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,787
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28975305
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/rainysea/pseuds/rainysea
Summary: Clint's just trying to shove popcorn down his throat and go about his life, but he apparently can't do it without pissing someone off.
Relationships: James "Bucky" Barnes/Clint Barton
Comments: 3
Kudos: 65





	Common Places

Clint wondered if it made him old that he preferred going to the cinema in the middle of a weekday. Probably, but kids tended to be in school and it wasn’t crowded. The majority of the people he saw there weren’t really different than the later crowd or with senior citizens being the majority. Huh, he didn’t really see senior citizens at the movie’s at all, when did they go?

In the midst of his musing he tripped over part of a chair and fell forward, knocking his head against the headrest in front of him. His giant bucket of popcorn connected with someone’s head. “Aw, popcorn, no.”

“What the fuck man?!” Clint heard over the previews.

Okay, sure, getting popcorn thrown at you wasn't great, but it wasn't the worst either, so there was no reason to shout like that. Clint gripped the back of a seat and hauled himself up. A guy in the row in front of him was glaring back at him, hair hiding most of his face, but gray eyes piercing out of the dim theater, wishing Clint a swift death. Well, that was probably just the lighting from the exit light reflecting. Hopefully that and not that he was some demon.

Oh man, he did not want to piss off a demon. They didn't have the best control of their temper, right?

Aw, but demons weren't decorated with popcorn either. Jeez, he'd wanted to eat that too. “Sorry? I didn't mean to trip. Er, lemme-” Clint moved to brush the guy's shoulder.

He flinched. Valid, Clint shouldn't go around touching people without their permission or something. “Just, it's fine,” the guy mumbled. “Shut up Sam,” he snapped at the man next to him, who's shoulders were shaking with laughter. He resolutely faced forward, not bothering with the popcorn. “The movie's starting.”

The starting logos had finished, and Clint slumped down in the seat behind them, looking mournfully down at his extra-large bucket, now half empty. At least he'd set his drink down first. Everyone settled in place and the first half went by without incident.

And then Clint ran out of popcorn.

He started hunting for bits that might've fallen on the floor around him, but most of it ended up on the possible demon, which was totally unfair since he didn’t even nibble at any. As far as Clint could tell the guy wasn't even breathing, stock still the whole time. Clint was a bit indignant, because what kind of moron passed up free popcorn? Even if you didn't want to eat it off the floor, a lot had fallen on him. Even his friend had nipped a piece or two, since Clint started staring at them instead of the screen when he ran out of snacks.

The scene onscreen lightened, and wow, there were like three pieces in his hair, and at least a hand full in the hood of his hoodie. Jerk.

Clint tried to redirect his focus to the screen, but his eyes kept moving back to the popcorn like magnets. Surely he wouldn't notice if he picked some, right? The movie wasn't the best, but it wasn't the worst either, surely they were caught up in the story line?

Clint sat up and rolled his shoulders, and nonchalantly picked a piece out of the guy's hoodie and paused. He didn't move.

Hah, success!

Clint managed to eat three more pieces during one incredibly boring scene on a beach before he ran out of easy hoodie pieces. There was one at the ends of the long hair, he wouldn't feel that right? Kate got leaves in her hair all the time, he totally wouldn't notice.

The guy noticed. He whipped his head around and Clint jerked back in his seat trying to look like he hadn't just done that. “Did you just eat popcorn out my hair?!” He hissed.

“What, no, course not,” Clint mumbled.

The guy squinted a moment and then faced forward again, shoulders stiff. His eyes really were unreal. He was kinda pale too.

Clint held out through another gunfight before temptation became to much. He'd paid for that, alright? And there it was, right in front of him, not even on the floor.

This time Clint got his hand smacked away, hard. “Fucking, ow.” That hurt, a lot. Clint flexed his fingers, relieved to find nothing broken.

“You did! What the hell?”

“Well, you weren't eating them!” Clint tried. “They're still good.”

Clint got an incredulous look in return. The guy's friend was giving him a doubtful eyebrow, and really, did the movie have to switch into some heartwarming montage with light colors and low music so everyone in the theater could see them?

“I dunno man, he hasn't washed his hair in like a month, I don't think it's anymore sanitary than the floor,” his friend said.

The glare got temporarily shot at his friend. “Fuck off.”

“Sorry, alright? I'm moving, see?” Clint got up and flexed his hand as he moved a couple seats down. “That really hurt, what is your hand metal or something?”

The man shot up out of his seat just as Clint slumped down in another one, an unreadable look on his face. The whole theater was watching them at this point. Huh, that jawline was killer actually, now that Clint was seeing it in dramatic lighting and the man had tossed the hair out of his face, sending another piece of popcorn flying. Clint wondered if this was going to become the third movie theater he was thrown out of.

“Bucky-” he friend started.

The man, Bucky, huffed, and stomped back up the aisle out the door. Clint tracked him and thought it unfair that anyone could make stomping look good.

His friend, Sam?, heaved a sigh, and left after him.

Everyone was staring at Clint. He slumped down further in his seat, trying not to feel bad, but it was hard with that many eyes on him. Not gonna be thrown out then.

“Sir?” There was an usher at the other end of Clint's row, shinning a flashlight at him.

Spoke too soon. At least didn't need help walking out this time. “Yeah, yeah, I'm going.”

In retrospect, Clint should've just got another bucket of popcorn, but he'd skipped lunch that day chasing down some purse snatcher who grabbed Maria's bag as she was walking home from her morning shift. Nat had said he should've let it go, but Maria lived in his building. Nat didn't own a building, so her opinion got overruled.

She'd also laughed at him for the popcorn eating when she asked why he'd come back early from the movie got the story out of him. She'd been sitting on his couch with Kate, painting their nails and had caught him muttering to himself about popcorn as he came in.

Anyway, that was days ago, and days later Clint was still thinking about haunting gray eyes that wished his death. Hey, at least he hadn't shown up in his nightmares.

He had time to kill before his next archery class, so off to Bean to be Born it was. Usually he made himself a giant to-go thermos to take around, but he'd somehow ran out of coffee grounds. He swore he just bought some. Maybe that was why Lucky had vomited all over his bathmat? It definitely wasn't too much pizza no matter what Kate said, and the rug needed washing anyway.

“Hey Clint,” Sylvester-the-hipster who owned the cafe greeted Clint. Yes, he'd timed it perfectly during the afternoon lull between lunch and the end of the work day for normal people. “20oz Shot-in-the-Dark, triple?”

“Aw, you do know me,” Clint grinned. Sylvester updated him on his plant babies and Clint gushed over Lucky. Clint said his goodbyes when a teenager came in and ordered something that was probably a Starbucks drink from the way Sylvester's face tightened after the kid said it.

Clint paused by the door to check his phone, taking a sip, when the door was thrown open, smashing into his face. Clint stumbled back, elbow connecting with a wall shelf and sending his coffee up into the air.

There was an impressive amount of swearing as Clint tried to blink the world back into focus. Some of it might've been his, he wasn't too sure.

“Shit Bucky, who did you take out this time?” Someone said.

“I didn't- What were you doing behind the door?!” someone was shouting at someone. Probably Clint.

The world came back into focus, and Clint found himself blinking at angry gray eyes on a pale face, long hair drenched in coffee and hey, “I've been shouted at you before, haven't I?”

The guy squinted.

“Hey, it's the popcorn terrorist,” the other man said.

“Goddammit,” gray-eyes said. For half a second Clint thought he was gonna get decked and it might've been the hottest thing he'd ever seen. Seeing those eyes in daylight was a real treat. His nostrils flared and he reigned it in though. “You're bleeding,” he scowled.

Sylvester came over with some napkins. “Hey, Clint, you alright? I guess I really paid for the good stuff on that door huh.” He pressed some napkins to his face.

“Really, I don't think your nose is supposed to look like that,” the other guy said. Sam, was it?

Clint blinked and tenderly touched his nose and winced. “And that had just healed too. Ah, no big deal, it'll be fine in a few days.”

“You should go to a hospital,” the shouter, well, said very loudly.

“Bucky,” his friend said.

Bucky huffed. “I'm sorry. Really. Are you okay?”

“I'll be fine. This happens once a year, at least. And sorry, I got coffee on you this time.”

Bucky blinked and then looked down at himself, realizing this for the first time, before shaking his head. “I'm fine.”

“And look, I was hungry at the theater, I'm sorry I dumped popcorn and ate it off you.”

Sylvester choked out a laugh. “I'm telling Kate the next time she comes in.”

“She already knows,” Clint said mournfully.

They stood in silence for a moment, made even more awkward by the three other customers in the cafe staring at them.  
“Really, I'll be fine. Enjoy your coffee, Bucky was it? And Sam, right?” The two both looked like they might object so Clint rushed on. “I've gotta thing,” he jerked a thumb over his shoulder.

“I'll make you another Clint,” Sylvester said.

“Don't worry about it, I don't want to be late to the range.”

“But your nose-” Bucky started and really he was unfairly handsome now that he wasn't glaring.

“Hey, put pretty-eyes and his friend on my card!” Clint called out and made his escape.

Predictably, his lessons weren't the greatest, especially when his nose started dripping blood again, but he made it through up until Kate got there and dragged him off to seek proper medical attention. Sylvester was a snitch, but he also had some single-origin bean that Clint would absolutely die for, so he could let it go.

“No, Lucky, the left! Dammit, where are you going?” He shouted after the mutt. Lucky’s missing eye confused him sometimes when they were playing fetch. The ball Clint had thrown bounced off into the bushes on the right. Lucky had dashed down the path to the left. Probably saw a squirrel.

Clint jogged after him and then sped up when he realized Lucky was now jogging along with two runners. Or Clint tried to anyway, they were pretty fast. This went on for a full two minutes and Clint boggled a little because he didn’t seem to be getting any closer. Fortunately for Clint, they noticed Lucky running along and came to a stop to pet him.

Clint waved a hand when the blond one started to look around. “Hey!” He came to a stop, sucking in air. “Sorry ‘bout that, he takes off after squirrels-”

“No problem-”

“Of course it’s your dog,” the other guy said and heeeeyyyyy, it was Bucky. At least Lucky hadn’t been covered in mud; the mutt had jumped up on both of them.

“Bucky,” the blond one frowned at him.

“Did you go to the hospital?”

“Wha- That was like weeks ago.”

“It was one week ago.”

Clint shifted. “Yeah, I went to the hospital.” He actually answered truthfully because Bucky had a certain element to his glare that reminded him of Nat. Unlike Nat, Clint found it unreasonably hot.

“We heard the barista call someone.”

“Yeah, my friend tracked me down and made me go.”

“Oh,” the blond said, and Clint caught his face as he figured out who Clint was. “You dumped popcorn and coffee on Bucky here. Steve Rogers,” the blond held out his hand, a grin Clint couldn’t read on his face. 

“Steve,” Bucky hissed.

“Uh, Clint Barton,” he shook the man’s hand. Clint glanced at Bucky and wondered if he should offer him his hand.

“Don’t you dare,” Bucky said, but it didn’t really had any bite, thank god. He wasn’t really scowling anymore either, so score! That probably had to do with Lucky though, the dog could cheer anyone up.

“And that’s Lucky.”

“He’s great,” Steve said, leaning down to give a few extra pets.

Clint clipped his leash onto Lucky, like a responsible dog owner. “Sorry, didn’t mean to interrupt your run.”

“As far as interruptions go, this one’s great,” and wow, Bucky was actually throwing a small smile in his general direction.

Clint ended up running into Bucky, Sam, and Steve, in various combinations, every few days. Apparently Bucky and Steve moved to an apartment nearby. 

Bucky smiled at him more instead of glaring, even that one time Clint had stopped in the middle of the sidewalk to chug down some healthy smoothie shit Kate had bought him, and ended up choking up half of it all over Bucky’s boots when he and Sam had caught him by surprise. 

Bucky had given him the same slow blink Natasha did. “You’re a disaster.”

“You have eyes like the Titanic,” Clint said.

“The Titanic. The whole ship,” Bucky deadpanned.

“Uh, the movie. The diamond. Sapphire? No, wait, that’s a different blue. The old lady. Her eyes? Er, they were blue-gray, right?” Now that he’d thought about it, it wasn’t even close to the same color.

“My eyes remind you of-”

“So Bucky’s eyes remind you of an elderly Kate Winslet,” Sam cut in.

… So it hadn’t been Clint’s finest flirting, but he’d managed to shove it in there. Maybe he just should’ve declared how happy he was to be bi. That was the point right?

Bucky had caught him at the park now, on a solo run. “Hey.”

Clint grinned up at him from where he’d thrown himself on the ground, watching lucky dive in and out of the bushes. “Hey. Just you today?”

“Yeah,” Bucky tugged a little at his small ponytail. It didn’t do much, since a large chunk still hung in his eyes. “Steve’s out of town for some art workshop.” He looked expectantly at Clint.

“Cool.”

“I mean, are you busy? You uh, wanna go for burgers or something?”

“Oh, I’m your last resort huh?” Clint teased. “Sure,” he added quickly when it looked like Bucky was going to start scowling and possibly mess up Clint’s chance s. “But I know a good pizza place.”

Bucky grinned and Clint beamed back.

It was a whole nine dates later before Steve came back, some of the dates even on the same day.

“Oh, it’s like this then, huh?” Steve grinned in the doorway at them.

Clint and Bucky were pressed together on the couch covered in a blanket or two too many. “Yeah.”

Steve shut the door. “And here I thought I had at least a one more month of hearing how ‘adorable that blond disaster is’.”

“Aw, you were pining after me?” Clint nudged his metal shoulder.

“I was not pining,” Bucky rolled his eyes.

“It was cute,” Steve grinned.

“Should’ve recorded it. Would’ve been a great thing to play at our-” wedding, Clint barely swallowed the word back down in time. “Two month anniversary.”

Steve laughed and went to put his stuff in his room and take a shower.

Bucky shifted. “We, uh, doing that? It that where this is going? Monthly… Anniversaries? You’re that into… This?” Bucky gestured, looking a little intimidated and a lot hopeful.

The way he said ‘anniversaries’, Clint knew he’d caught on to Clint’s near slip. “Yes. Absolutely. Some day. If that’s alright with you.”

The smile Bucky gave him in return was the most beautiful thing he’d ever seen.


End file.
